


The Fully Bloomed Rose, Moon, and You

by lambiris



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M, Slow Dancing, based on kai giving beomgyu a rose for his coming of age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lambiris/pseuds/lambiris
Summary: On his nineteenth birthday, Beomgyu finds a rose on his desk.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Huening Kai
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	The Fully Bloomed Rose, Moon, and You

**Author's Note:**

> Purely self-indulgent. Unproofread. 
> 
> Inspired by Justine Vasquez' 'Fly You to the Moon'. Can also play it if you want.

Beomgyu almost misses it.

Inconspicuous. Somehow blending into the chaos that was his and Soobin’s shared desk. Really. Any other day he wouldn’t have a hard time spotting it, but today’s regimen had been particularly rigorous. Comeback was fast approaching and being the kind of group that they were-- that is, seeking nothing second to perfection for their fans-- they had no time to slack. Not even for special days. Those were pushed back to be celebrated during scheduled breaks. Tough but it’s an idol’s nature of work.

Thankfully even with the heavy pulls of his eyelids and a vision blurred without the help of prescription lenses, he spots it. And, well, even if he hadn’t spotted it at first glance (which he did), it would’ve been impossible to miss anyway. Not with the way it was placed on top of piled textbooks and papers, the way it was highlighted by the moonlight that streamed in through the window they normally kept curtained and shut. The window was thrown wide open, drapes swept aside just enough to welcome the soft glow into their room. It was there on purpose, with intention. _Someone_ placed it there.

As his thoughts were racing, Beomgyu had shut the door behind him and had picked up the rose, mindful of any thorns; there were none. Its red petals stretched outwards, like open arms waiting for a warm embrace; fully bloomed like the moon that hung outside their room. All across the red canvas, tiny droplets, no bigger than ants, reflected the moonlight, glinting like stars when he spun the stem between two fingers, lost in awe. It was beautiful.

And just as he arrived at a conclusion, the door cracked open behind him. He didn’t turn right away, too mesmerized, it must be his roommate anyway. Silly as it may sound, Beomgyu hasn’t seen and touched a rose for a while. Sure there were plenty he would occasionally see whilst scrolling through social media but in real life… Seoul was gray. It was a beautiful city, filled with twinkling colorful lights and all, but none of those colorful lights sprung out from the roots of mother nature. The twinkling lights of a city outshine the stars, but the real rival of the heavens’ is the flowers that litter the earth. After all, poets write of them both, flowers and stars, in their sonnets but whereas the stars are untouchable-- the flowers can be plucked and given to a parent, a sibling, or a sweetheart. Just like this one.

But who?

Faces flash behind his lids as he inhales, lungs stretching to accommodate the sweet aroma. His suspicions are confirmed. Freshly picked, otherwise its scent would’ve faded away, lost to the wind and smoky entrails. 

“Soobi--” he freezes, halfway twisted on his heels because there he was. Not Soobin but Kai. He looks the same as always, drop-dead gorgeous (not that Beomgyu would admit it to his face), dressed in a hoodie, socked feet peeking out from underneath one of his longer sweatpants. His hair is tousled, and on his lips is a silly, lopsided smile.

Beomgyu tears his gaze away from the younger’s face to the parcel he had brought with him. 

“Macarons,” Kai says, syllables smoothly rolling off his tongue, “from my sister.”

Kai closes the distance between them, placing the plastic-wrapped treats on the desk behind Beomgyu. Then he comes even closer, replacing the scent of roses with lavender, and presses a kiss on Beomgyu’s forehead.

“Happy birthday, hyung.”

The effect is instantaneous. The lingering warmth bursts in hot flames, spreading like wildfire, turning his face into a raging inferno. His limbs, which were then frozen from surprise, jittered to life and twitched about. Kai’s greeting fell on deaf ears. All Beomgyu could think about was his lips, soft, the kiss, gentle as Kai always is, and the heat. The heat that came not from the millisecond physical contact but from the box of emotions that it latched open.

A box he’s kept hidden in a bigger one, tucked in the corner of his mind, never to be touched. But with a single peck its lock disappears.

He’s pulled out of his daze, meets eyes that have grown worried and panicky during his trance.

“Do you not like it? I’m sorry if I--” he quickly says, hands wringing together.

“Kai-yah” he interrupts, the boy shuts up immediately. Beomgyu hates the way his gaze lingers on the way the pink links smack together. Hates how much effect those lips had on him, has on him. “I love it, thank you.”

The sentence fades into a whisper but Kai hears it just the same, ears attuned to picking up the slightest of noises. A smile blooms on his lips, prettier than any rose Beomgyu has seen. He hates that, unlike the rose, he cannot place his own lips upon it; cannot see for himself how soft it would be against his own, molding together.

“Send Lea-noona my thanks too,” he says, busying his hands with fixing the rose’s petals. Deep breaths, he tells himself as he quells the wild storm inside his chest. It’s just a forehead kiss. A _birthday_ forehead kiss.

“I will,” Kai replies with a firm nod. 

Beomgyu’s lips twitch upward, “You won’t forget?” 

Kai’s face twists, scandalized, “Never!” 

There’s a pause and then they both burst out laughing.Kai was the most forgetful out of all of them, they both knew that. Left to his own devices, the message would probably arrive a month later or worse, as he said, never. 

This, he can fall to easily. The lighthearted banter and teasing, familiar, he doesn’t even need to think.

  
  


“Let me just text her now,” Kai says, fishing out his phone. 

“Here, let me do it,” A text message will probably suffice, but he wants to show his gratefulness and give her some peace of mind. He snatches the phone from Kai’s grip and quickly pulls up the camera. Kai immediately catches on, bending down to Beomgyu’s height and resting his chin on his shoulder.

Beomgyu ignores the way his heart leaps to his throat and quickly snatches a picture, praying to dear god that Kai wouldn’t hear the drums he’s once again awakened inside his chest. Kai remains on his spot, leaning on him even as Beomgyu types out his words of appreciation. (So gamer’s dexterity is handy after all.)

The response comes quickly in the form of stickers and another happy birthday. The weight on his shoulder disappears, Beomgyu releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and replies with stickers from Kai’s very vast collection. The chat drags on for a little while, pleasantries and how are you’s exchanged along with a promise to catch up soon. Personality runs in the family; they’re all very sweet.

_Thanks again, noona_

  
  


_I’ll eat it well <3 _

  
  
  


_It was nothing~_

  
  
  


_I have to go back to work now_

  
  
  


_Tell Kai to not forget_

  
  


_It’s tradition_

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, he sends a bunch of question marks but gets nothing in response. When he looks up Kai is staring at him with a strange look on his face; guarded. Beomgyu gulps, handing the phone back to the younger, “What does she mean?”

There’s a pause again but this time it drags out in second, minutes. Kai’s gaze is locked on his phone, Beomgyu reckons he’s reading the message over and over again. Did he forget what she meant too? Maybe. But Beomgyu recognizes that look. That blank slate Kai always wears whenever he’s about to face something that he fears. Oh Beomgyu recognizes it very well, he’s trained himself to recognize it. Roller coasters, spiders, heights; things that _look_ is always directed at. Beomgyu’s always there in a flash, offering words of comfort, stroking reassurances across his back.

But what does he do now that it’s pointed towards _him_?

Pause.

“Hyung I--”

“Is something wro--”

They both clack their teeth together. Wary now, Beomgyu tries to not let it show on his face. It’s not immediate danger, but he can’t help worry a little, with Kai all nervous like this. “Is something wrong?”

“No! No, nothing, absolutely,” Kai denies quickly, waving his hands around, “just, just uh..”

Beomgyu tips his head slightly, encouraging him.

“I don’t have a gift ‘gift’ for you yet so I wanted to do something else,” he stumbles through the words, syllables mixing with one another. It’s fine. Beomgyu’s patient. He always is. With Kai.

“You don’t have to get me a gift, I won’t mind,” Beomgyu says.

Kai raises an eyebrow to which Beomgyu rolls his eyes at, “Alright fine, I’m going to be a teeny tiny bit upset if you don’t get me a gift.”

“Figures.” 

Kai cries out high-pitched and playful when Beomgyu smacks him. It lightens the air between the both of them. “So, what is it?”

Kai sighs, resigned. His fingers quickly flits across his phone, “It’s better if I show you,”

Beomgyu’s eyes flicker to the phone where Kai places it on the desk, but Kai clears his throat to gain his attention before he could make sense of the blurred words. He puts distance between them, a step and a half, places an arm behind his back. It’s oddly familiar, the position, Beomgyu just can’t place a finger on it.

But then Kai stretches his other arm out, an offer. It clicks. An open palm halfway between them waits for an answer.

“Hyung can I…”

There’s a glint in his eyes again. Hesitance. It disappears as quickly as it came. His eyes cloud over in determination. A stubbornness that outmatches a bull’s mixed with Kai’s inherent spontaneity. It creates a burst, propelling him forward.

“Can I have this dance?”

_I’ll fly you to the moon_

The singer’s voice comes first followed by a note on the guitar. His heart stops, skips a beat, then it kickstarts, pounding a hundred miles per hour. It’s the fastest it’s beaten all night, and it shows no sign of stopping.

_A place for me and you_

It’s as though he was underwater. Everything is muffled, his limbs heavy, sight muddled. Is this happening for real?

_Tell me what you wanna do,_

_I wanna take you to the moon_

But then his gaze lands on Kai, half-bowed, arms still stretched out.He’s still wearing that look, that shield. But there’s a crack, unsureness shining through his eyes, brought by Beomgyu’s hesitance. Beomgyu forgets everything else, moving in instinct, that is, to ease that fear away.

His own arm stretches out, hand landing on the open palm. He answers.

_Can I take you?_

“Of course.”

Electricity jolts through them at the contact, their eyes meet, look away, then meet again. Beomgyu realizes he must be wearing his face funny because Kai cracks a smile. ‘What,’ he mouths, playing at being angry. Kai shakes his head and tugs Beomgyu close. Too close. But this is how it’s supposed to be, right?

One step to the side, then another and another, it’s all reciprocated. They fall into rhythm. One guides, the other follows; they dance. 

Kai’s hand falls down to rest on Beomgyu’s waist, grasp gentle yet firm. Beomgyu places his on Kai’s shoulders, and the other-- it links together with Kai’s. He watches it, their fingers closing together one by one, each a word to a temporary promise.

_I’ll fly you to the moon_

No words are exchanged between them as they cover the expanse of the room. Couple dances. Not the first time they’ve heard of it, or danced it. First time they danced it together though. Beomgyu’s glad he isn’t face to face with the younger, he doesn’t think his heart can handle anymore attacks tonight.

It’s not the perfect scene. What with the song being played only through a phone’s speakers, fading as they span away from it. Their feet get caught among the clothes skewered across the floor, losing foot then finding it in one another. ‘Oops’ and giggles are shared, Beomgyu drags his fingers on Kai’s neck where he’s sensitive. And in turn Kai digs a finger into his abdomen, making him lurch.

Not perfect. But it’s so very them.

“This is tradition?”

Kai hums in agreement, Beomgyu feels the vibration through his chest. “Family does it, it’s… done for girls y’know but…” Beomgyu squeezes their linked hands, encouragement, support; always.

“Noona said to go for it. Make your day special, quote unquote,” 

“Well you succeeded,” Beomgyu admits, leaning down to rest his head on Kai’s shoulder, “This feels very special, Kai-yah”

“I’m glad”

They’re more calm after that, less of the play, more of the dance. The atmosphere changes, without the jabs and pokes, there’s nothing to chase away the intimacy. 

Beomgyu gets a strike of courage, or perhaps, he’s just given in. He shifts, face resting in the junction of Kai’s shoulder and neck. He breathes in the scent of lavender wash and citrus perfume, a combination so out of this world but so so Hueningkai.

Their steps slowed down as the last few notes fell. Complete silence if not for the wild beating of their hearts. They both hear it, can feel it, pressed close together like this. No more hiding, completely bare.

_What comes next?_

“You still haven’t bought my present right?” Beomgyu whispers, his hand detaches from Kai’s shoulders, it finds home on his face, smooth and soft. 

Kai leans into the touch, relaxed, “What do you want, hyung?”

Beomgyu walks to fingers across Kai’s forehead, on the cheeks, across the nose then finally landing on the end of his lips. He hooks a thumb underneath Kai’s chin then presses ever so slightly.

“This.” 

The early spring wind blows through the window that’s been left open, it eases the curtains away, making way. The moonlight enters, steady and soft in its glow. It bathes over two individuals but the shadow it creates is one; connected.

The rose faces the moon. The moon faces the rose. They reach for each other in the starless night sky. A petal that’s been pulled is carried by the breeze, up it goes, up and up. It goes high and above and plants a kiss on the ivory cheek, firm, loving.

After all, stars may be untouchable but men have walked the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> so if it all seemed choppy-- that's because it is. i set a timer and swore up and down to post it finished or not because of reasons i can't disclose. thank you for reading!


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